Reseda’s Reseeders

In the cold early Saturday morning, they begin their determined--if sometimes misunderstood--work on the margins of a town in decline.

Three Reseda homeowners, who have been mistaken for community service probationers, city employees and even thieves, unload a light brown pickup truck at the median strip at Sherman Way and Reseda Boulevard.

“You get the best people and the worst people out here,” says Barbara Varenas, who works for a Studio City liquor importer.

It could be argued that Varenas is one of the best. So are Shirley Merz and Allison McGean. They are, after all, the Reseda Renaissance Ladies.

On this Saturday, armed with shovels, rakes, brooms and clippers, they attack the center divider, removing dying plants and clipping off brown leaves. Merz, an office manager for an orthodontist, kneels on the curb to dig into the earth, her feet hanging into the road.

As she works, the tires of a four-wheel-drive truck roll by just inches away in the left-turn lane. This driver is not trying to scare her. “Sometimes, you think they’re trying to,” Merz says. “They’ll come right on up to you and lay on the horn, scare the stuff out of you.”

But throughout the morning, drivers also honk their horns encouragingly, give a thumbs-up or wave to the self-named Reseda Renaissance Ladies. People may not know the Reseda Renaissance Ladies and why they do the work--turning a stretch of Sherman Way into a kind of personal garden--but they like seeing the flowers and fresh plants along the median.

“That’s what it’s all about,” says McGean, the one who drives the pickup truck. “That people appreciate it.”

Chance brought them together. They all volunteered for a community cleanup day 1 1/2 years ago, and happened to walk up to the registration table at the same time. McGean had the truck and offered to drive them to the site they were assigned.

“We all hit it off,” McGean says. They soon discovered shared interests in gardening and in antiques.

“We find the same things funny,” Varenas says.

What was also funny--in more of an ironic way--was that after pulling all the weeds from the flower bed, they discovered no flowers in the bed at all. It was just bare dirt.

So they decided to buy the flowers and plants themselves. Eventually they adopted a stretch of Sherman Way, going out two or three times a week to clip away the rotting leaves and wilted flowers. It takes three or four trips to work the entire stretch, replacing plants and repairing damage. Then they start all over.

“It’s like painting a bridge,” Varenas says.

“I know we’re fighting a losing battle,” McGean says. “But then again, so are the police.”

They have also picked a part of the San Fernando Valley they know has an image problem.

McGean acknowledges that Reseda wasn’t her first choice when she and her husband were house-hunting in 1985. Still, it rattles her when a friend may give directions to a restaurant, mentioning in passing the intersection of Sherman Way and Reseda Boulevard, adding casually: “Oh, you know, that crappy part of town.”

She has an answer ready, however. “You’re right,” she tells them. “It is a crappy town, but my friends and I are trying to do something about it.”

But it’s not easy, and sometimes it’s unpleasant. Cleaning out planters, they find used syringes and condoms.

“Some planters you never go in at all, even with your gloves on,” McGean says.

Merz’s pet peeve is cigarette butts.

“They never seem to decompose,” Merz says, while sweeping debris. “We’re constantly digging up cigarette butts. I hope you don’t smoke.”

After they finish planting and trimming one section of the median--replacing annual plants with perennials--the women clean up and get drinks out of McGean’s truck.

“The truck was parked right here,” says Merz, remembering the time the police visited. “The hazard lights were on, we were knelt down and working.”

A patrol car pulled up, with three police officers.

One officer told the ladies they had received a report that someone was stealing the flowers. He let them go, but eyed them suspiciously.

Relations with the city are usually better than that. McGean’s truck was ticketed twice for illegal parking, but after explaining the situation to parking officials, they were forgiven.

One meter maid, worrying about their safety, gave them small red cones for safety. And city workers have also offered them the bright orange vests used by road crews. They turned that down, however.

“Then, we’ll look like city workers,” Varenas says.

*

At their break, sipping drinks, the women discuss the work. The green perennials have a sameness, they say. A splash of color is needed, and the women decide on pansies.

“Break’s over, back to work,” a passing driver calls out. They laugh.

But driving in the other direction is Peter Kalos, a Reseda resident who pulls over after seeing the women. He hands them a $20 bill through the window. It is enough to buy the new pansies. Four hours after they started, the women are cleaning and getting ready to leave.

“Do you guys need help?” a driver asks.

“Oh, now you want to help?” Merz teases him. “Where were you at 8 o’clock in the morning?

“We’re done,” she says. “It’s hot and we’re tired.”